


12/12

by foramomentonly



Series: Vlambase Promo Photo Series (aka Stoner Malex series) [3]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: M/M, Malex, Stoner Malex AU, Teen Malex, Underage Smoking, Weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28702170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foramomentonly/pseuds/foramomentonly
Summary: For my sweet anon, who had a bad day.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: Vlambase Promo Photo Series (aka Stoner Malex series) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064402
Comments: 16
Kudos: 50





	12/12

**Author's Note:**

> For my sweet anon, who had a bad day.

They head straight to Michael’s room at the Evans house after school, a rarity considering Alex normally has a shift at the Emporium or works relief for Arturo at the Crashdown on weekday afternoons. But the museum is closed for fumigation and Rosa is more reliable than ever thanks to rehab and, Alex suspects, the alluring distraction of Isobel Evans. And so, just as Michael is sweet talking his truck’s ancient engine into turning over in the student lot, eager to run out the tedious hours between final bell and Alex’s inevitable appearance at his door, he hears a heavy thunk behind him and a moment later Alex wrenches open the passenger side door and hauls himself inside, grinning casually and setting his heavy boot on the dash like Michael secretly hates, murmuring, “Take me for a ride, sweetheart?”

But why drive out to the desert to shiver in the harsh wind that blows over the wide, open expanse, the cold metal of Michael’s truck bed an unwelcome shock to their bare skin as they fool around, when they have the option of an empty house, a soft bed, and Michael’s stash at their disposal? So “take me for a ride” turns quickly into “take me home,” and they end up sprawled across Michael’s messy bed, Alex propped up against a pillow at the foot, Michael lounging against the headboard, both in sweatshirts to fight off the chill coming from the patio door, wide open to let the smoke and the stench out.

“I’m  _ soooo  _ hungry,” Michael groans into his sleeve, arm thrown across his face, but instead of sympathy he gets Alex’s bare foot creeping up his side, toes wiggling under his sweatshirt to dig playfully into his ribs. Alex had learned Michael is ticklish on this same cramped bed under very different circumstances the week before. Since that discovery, he’s been relentless.

“Stop!” Michael laughs breathlessly, reaching out and capturing Alex’s foot, holding it captive against his stomach. "I'm too high and too hungry for that right now."

“So get up, then,” Alex laughs, crosses his arms behind his head and makes no move to pull his foot back. “And get me some water, I’m thirsty as fuck.”

“But I don’t  _ want to _ ,” Michael whines, and though his eyes are hazy and heavy lidded, they soften when he looks at Alex spread out across his bed, the length of his body pressed against Michael's with a hand wrapped loose around his calf, and adds softly, “It’s so cozy here.”

“Then I guess you aren’t eating,” Alex shrugs, and though his returning smile is something private and warm, he’s clearly unmoved by Michael’s plight.

“You could get it for me,” Michael purrs, rubbing Alex’s in step idly with his thumb and smiling suggestively down his own body. ”I’ll trade you a blow job for a frozen burrito.”

Alex snorts.

“Like I’m not probably getting one today anyway,” he laughs, and Michael grins, digs hard into Alex’s arch with his fingers and bites his lip when Alex groans softly.

“You have a point,” he replies lazily, and begins working Alex’s foot, sore from a day trapped in heavy, constricting boots, with both hands.

“You trying to butter me up, Guerin?” Alex breathes, burrowing into his pillow, eyes slipping closed.

“Yup,” Michael answers with an exaggerated pop of his lips, and suddenly he’s rolling to a stand, turning Alex sideways across the bed by his ankle as he grunts in protest and pulling Alex gently up by his wrists. He leans in close, nose brushing Alex’s, and whispers against his lips, “If I have to go  _ all the way _ to the kitchen, I’m taking you with me.”

In the bright, open plan kitchen and formal living room space, Michael heads straight for the pantry, cursing the time it would take to heat up anything from the freezer. He dumps the entire contents of the snack shelf on the large, central island and pulls a glass out of the dishwasher below, handing it over to Alex and pointing to the fridge.

“There’s filtered water in there,” he says, and rips open a container of Pringles, shoving a thick stack into his mouth and moaning loud as the salt hits his tongue. He's sorting one-handed through the rest of the haul spilled out artlessly across the counter when he hears Alex wail dramatically behind him.

“ _ Noooooo! _ ” Alex cries as he pulls out the empty Brita pitcher from the fridge, waving it in Michael's direction. “How could you do this to me?!”

“Uh-oh,” Michael says, searching the room with wide, wild eyes for a solution. He looks out the sliding glass doors, so large they take up half the back wall, and he lets out a sudden crow of triumph as he takes in the spacious green of the backyard. He turns and grins slowly over his shoulder at Alex.

“I got it, baby. Come on.”

Alex follows Michael through the living room and out the sliding doors into the yard, neither bothering with shoes; the grass tickles Alex's toes and he  _ giggles _ , cheeks warming in embarrassment, but the next moment Michael trips over a twig and makes a show of taking Alex's hand to guide him over the "treacherous pass," and it's becoming clear to them both that underneath the combat boots and the snark, the irreverent beanie and the burnout persona, they are two boys falling in love for the first time. And they're really,  _ really  _ high.

"Do you guys have a cooler out here or something?" Alex asks, looking around the small section of the yard Michael's led him to. It's surprisingly unpolished, mostly out of the living room's line of sight; sparse, boasting only a thin tree and overgrown brush along the property line.

Michael grins and bends over, picking up a thin hose and holding it loosely at his waist, a arc of water spurting from the nozzle after only a moment of Michael seeming to glare at it in concentration. Alex steps back to avoid the spray.

"How'd you do that?" he asks. 

Michael pauses, stares a beat at Alex, then the hose, and back again.

"Timer!" he finally exclaims, and Alex shrugs.

Michael grins again, biting his lip, and gestures with his empty hand to the free-flowing stream.

"Go on," he says excitedly, and Alex would think he's fucking with him if Michael didn't look so proud. Taking in the full image of Michael holding an inescapably suggestive object, shooting a steam stream of liquid no less, at hip level and encouraging his boyfriend to lean in for a taste, Alex's shoulders shake with laughter, even more so when Michael leans into it, jutting his hips out and lowering the hose another half inch. 

"Come on," Michael says, voice uneven as he begins to lose his own composure. "Like you weren't probably gonna be doing this today anyway."

Alex snorts at his own words echoing back at him, but he bends his knees, folding in half and resting his palms atop his thighs for balance. He opens his mouth comically wide, his tongue flat as he extends it towards the stream of water. He's still laughing, nose scrunched and eyebrows high, and Michael mimes anticipation, jaw dropping open and lips pulling into an exaggerated O, tears bright in the corners of his unfocused eyes from laughter.

Alex is about to drink in earnest, his laughter turning into hoarse barks in his dry throat, when they hear a low voice behind them.

“You know water comes out of all the faucets, right?” Isobel says, arms crossed and hip cocked. She’d be the perfect picture of condemnation if she weren’t biting her lip to stop the spread of a broad smile across her face.

Alex and Michael lock eyes, twin looks of disbelief and amusement on their faces, and they collapse onto the rough ground in breathless laughter, Michael snorting into Alex's shoulder as Alex lies flat on his back, fist in his mouth to preserve what dignity he might still have as tears stream down his temples and his entire core shakes.

Isobel rolls her eyes and turns back toward the house.

"I think I liked it better when you two were sneaking around," she mutters under her breath.

Their shrieks and snorts finally dying out, Michael props himself up on an elbow over Alex's chest, a soft, dopey smile on his lips, and Alex lifts his hand to run his fingertips softly across Michael's cheekbone and into his hair, pushing an unruly curl out of his eyes. 

Almost in unison, they breathe, "I didn't."


End file.
